


Pissing Contest

by misch3fbunni3



Series: Tit For Tat [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anger, Blood and Injury, Healing, Hidden Injury, Minor Violence, Revenge, Sarcasm, Some Humor, Wesker can be a dick, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misch3fbunni3/pseuds/misch3fbunni3
Summary: Wesker confronts Irons in the bathroom after the beatdown.
Series: Tit For Tat [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124438
Kudos: 5





	Pissing Contest

It had been a week since Wesker had his unfortunate company meeting with Sergei and Chief Irons and had avoided the heavyset man at all costs, sending Barry in his place for any meeting requiring his presence. Wesker knew that if he laid eyes on Irons, he would not be able to control his anger. His genitals were still sore if he stretched the wrong way or rose from his chair too fast.

Wesker was livid about the whole thing yet kept his discontent under a tactically stoic mask and dark shades. In addition to his contempt for Irons, he was angry at himself for letting Sergei sneak up on him and get the upper hand before he even had a chance.

Luckily it was cooler weather, and he was able to get away with wearing long-sleeved dress shirts to hide the damage to his wrists. His shades mostly covered the sucker punch shot Irons had taken despite Sergei’s protest of there being any damage to his face. However, Sergei also did not stop Irons either when the flabby bastard broke his nose. An injury that he could not hide.

There had been incessant concerned questions from both the Alpha and Bravo teams that got old very fast, and he started to snap at his subordinates if they stared too long. Especially Chris, who hounded him still for a name.

One late evening, Chris had poked his head into Wesker’s office, inquiring how Wesker was doing, and it was the last straw.

Wesker snapped to his feet, ignoring the sharp pull in his groin from the abrupt movement, and rounded his desk, grabbed Chris by his jacket, and forcing the younger man to stumble backward, tripping on his feet as a livid Alpha captain bore down on him with unrestrained fury.

Chris found himself flung out the STARS main door to land harshly on his ass. A seething command of ‘Go Home’ was barked at him before the door was slammed, and the click of the lock was heard. Wesker returned to his desk and sat slowly, grimacing at his pulled muscles. Dropping his sunglasses on his desk, he rubbed his face in agitation, leaning onto one hand that had anchored into the armrest.

A knock tore him from his internal raving, and he could hear Chris’s muffled voice ask for his keys. Rising much slower, Wesker took careful steps over to Chris’s desk, shuffling through drawers for the requested keys and finding them, made for the door. Chris smiled and reached for them as the door was unlocked and cracked open by the unshielded face of his captain's hardened expression, but instead of depositing the keys into the waiting hand, Wesker tossed them as far down the hallway as he could. Wesker tried to hide a smirk but failed as the corner of one lip curled as he heard the keys clack against the far wall.

Chris’s face deadpanned as he watched his keys go flying. Sighing, despite knowing Wesker was in a shitty mood, he could have just handed him his keys or dropped them on the floor even. Chris vowed he would pester his superior as much as he could get away with the following day in response to Wesker’s dickheadedness. Chris mumbled as he set off for his keys, glaring at Wesker, who still stood barring any further entry back into the office, “You know Wesker, it wouldn’t hurt for you to be nice sometimes.”

Wesker returned to his normally stoic expression at Chris’s kicked puppy look despite the fact he was dying with laughter inside, “You need to realign your assessment, Redfield. Your expectations that I care are set way too high.” Without waiting for any further response, Wesker slammed the door and relocked it.

Leaning against the door, allowing his body to slump slightly, Wesker sighed, staring at the ceiling. He so desperately wanted to sit back down, but he had to piss. Repeated sitting and rising was taking their toll on his sore groin muscles. Listening intently for Chris to be gone and out of earshot, Wesker unlocked the door and left the office for the restroom.

Upon entering, Wesker froze as he realized whose back was turned towards him at one of the urinal stands. Without further thought, he marched forward, snarling as he gripped the collar of Chief Brian Irons and swiftly launched the man’s head downward to smash his nose against the porcelain.

A muffled cry accompanied the loud thud as Irons's nose, and upper lip made contact and ruptured, blood streaming down along the crisp white and splattering the blue urinal cake. The heavyset man lost his balance and collapsed to his knees in which his face was instantly violently shoved into the bottom of the urinal, his mouth coming in contact with the innocent blue cake now coated in his blood.

Wesker leaned down heavily against Irons, not allowing him to wrench his face away from the rank smell, hissing with barely restrained anger, “I would crush your balls with my bare hands, but I can imagine that you might like it too much.” Holding the protesting flailing arms away from getting any handholds to push upright, Wesker pressed down further harder, grinning as he heard Irons retch, body heaving.

Ramming the chief’s face further into the rank cake, Wesker finally wrenched the head back only to shove it forward to bounce against the porcelain rim, content with the continued retching noises. Stepping away, completely distracted from his original mission of relieving himself, Wesker spat at Irons, which landed on one chunky cheek that jostled as if he was burned, “You won’t get away with this, you fucker!”

Wesker dared not let his expression betray how he truly felt, only slightly satisfied in his actions, coming nowhere close to reciprocating the harsh treatment from a week prior, “It seems I already have.”

Irons tried to scramble to his feet, and Wesker noticed that Irons had pissed himself slightly, a wet spot obvious along the seam at the crotch of his pants, his cock hanging out from being caught off guard, “I have Sergei on speed dial!”

Wesker shrugged, not really caring for the time being. It was unlikely the beast of a man would suddenly jump out of the supply closet to chase him down. Wesker had been dealing with Sergei’s shit since the late 80s and would be ready the next time the gray-haired man paid him a visit, “Just goes to show how much of a dirty cunt you really are getting Sergei to fight your battles for you.”

Wesker turned on his heel and exited the bathroom, hearing several threats from the raving man still trying to stand up, “This isn't over!"

Wesker agreed. This was far from over.

Wesker sighed as he left for the day, stepping out in the crisp fall air, fairly content with the notion he had shoved Irons’ face into his own piss as small retribution for the attack he has sustained at the hands of the other man. Wesker knew Sergei would follow up on his transgressions, and he would be ready this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Not very exciting but… I’m setting up for the next installment of Tit For Tat which will make up for this quick transition chapter.


End file.
